


Jenna's War II: Big Girl

by gelbes_gilatier



Series: Jenna's War [2]
Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Het, Soldiers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelbes_gilatier/pseuds/gelbes_gilatier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's good news and bad news for Private Jenna Melara... no, there are only  bad news. And she wants to share them with all of us!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, part II. I hope at least someone reads it here ;) And more importantly someone _enjoys_ it ;)

**Big Girl **

_“Outside it's now raining_  
 _And tears are falling from my eyes_  
 _Why did it have to happen_  
 _Why did it all have to end_  
 _I'm a big big girl_  
 _In a big big world.”_

_Emilia, “Big, Big Girl”_

 

** One  **

 

“Hey Mel, how ‘bout a game of sabacc?” I hear Xanas say behind me but I keep on reading my datapad. Without looking up, I notice that he sits down at the foot of my cot. I don't acknowledge his presence, keeping my focus on my reading. “Aw, come on. Are you still not talking to me?” Well, what does it look like mister? “Mel... come on!”

 

He's nudging my foot now. And becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. “Jeeennaaa!” He nudges my foot again. At this point, I have given up on reading and am only pretending to do so to prevent him from bothering me. It's not working very well. He's now leaning his chin on my upper foot, looking at me like a kicked puppy. “How long are going to keep on ignoring me?” Batting his eyelashes at me, he waits for the answer. Well, he’s not going to get one, that’s for sure.

 

“Okay. You don’t want to talk? I'll make you talk.” What the…? He just started to unlace my boots. Okay, that’s enough. I draw my feet away. Which doesn’t stop him from trying to unlace my boots.

 

“Will you just stop it? You're behaving like a damn three-year-old!” Ooops. For a moment, neither of us says a word. Then suddenly a beaming grin lights up Xanas’ face and he points at me.

 

“She speaks! Oh Force, she has heard me! The sun has risen again!” What an idiot. I tell him that he behaves like a three-year-old and he just keeps on making a fool of himself. And me, for that matter.

 

Exasperated, I fling away the datapad and start lacing my boots again. “Stop messing around, will you? You've embarrassed both of us enough already.” He raises an eyebrow.

 

“Embarrassed? What are you talking about, pray tell?” He folds his arms and tries to look dignified, which is incredibly funny. Now, don’t laugh Melara, if you want him to take you seriously. Force, who am I trying to kid? As if he ever did that.

 

“You know full well what I’m talking about. Now go away.” I try to make an adequately annoyed face and I think I manage it quite well. Doesn’t mean he does what I want, though.

 

“Oh come on, Mel, it’s been two weeks since that… incident. You started talking to Magic two days after he got out of the brig, and you never stopped talking to Kreth. The only one that had to come begging was me. Why is that?” He didn’t just ask that, right? Because if he did, I’d have to think that he didn’t understand anything about women.

 

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

 

“Get what?” Oh Gods. Can I shoot him? Strangle him? Anything? _Please_?

 

“Hello? You took part in an utterly stupid fight, got knocked out for your trouble, and were proud of it to boot? What would your mother say?” Okay; that was a low blow but he deserved it. He did something really stupid and in the end no one gained anything. He went to the brig and is not likely to get promoted for the next hundred years and I got humiliated more than ever by everyone who was there or heard about the fight from someone who was there. I really thought he might have noticed some of that until now.

 

“Uh… Magic and Kreth took part in the fight, too, you know. And they're proud of it.” Poor Xanas; sometimes I wonder how someone so clever and obviously well-educated can be so dense.

 

“That’s different. They're recon. You're infantry.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “And?”

 

“And what? And nothing. That explains everything.” Gods, I just hope he doesn’t push the issue because one by one, the arguments are leaving me.

 

“Private Jenna Melara, if I didn’t know better, I would say you've got a problem with double-standards.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, barely being held at bay. As always, it’s making him nearly irresistible. Need to stay firm. Must not look at him.

 

“So what? Sue me.” Oh, that was a good one. Curt and nonchalant.

 

“Sue me? I’ll give you ‘sue me’.” With that he suddenly pounces me and starts tickling me, making me squeal and struggle against him. Unable to say anything coherent through my peals of forced laughter, I try to wriggle out of his grasp and accidentally roll off my cot. For a moment I’m free of him but before I can get away, he’s straddling me and pinning my arms on the ground left and right of my face. On his face there’s a grin that can only be described as maniac. It makes him look even more desirable.

 

He brings his face down to mine, still grinning and panting.

 

“Do you yield?” Also panting, I stick out my tongue.

 

“Never.” Our breathing has slowed down a little, and suddenly I realize that his eyes are the most intriguing shade of dark green when he’s excited. The grin has faded and something different is starting to show in his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was…

 

“ATTENTION!” Months of training and warfare have drilled certain things into us. Like forgetting whatever we are doing and jumping to our feet immediately whenever someone yells “Attention!” at us. Just like now.

 

Xanas and I scramble up and stand at attention. When I see that it was Tarkker who bawled the order for attention, I have a difficult time remaining cool. The spiteful grin on his face tells me that he called us to attention for something really, really unimportant.

 

“Mail distribution. I’ll call the names, and people will get their mail. No scrambling for letters, no shouting, no queuing up. You got me?” Gods, whoever made that guy a Corporal and Sarge’s replacement?

 

“Yes, sir!” everyone calls out but I can see a few people who are doing it through clenched teeth. Good to know that I’m not the only one hating the fact that Tarkker is acting Platoon leader since the LT died and Sarge will be on the hospital ship for an indefinite amount of time. Is it really that hard to find _some_ Lieutenant to replace Drennel?

 

Tarkker barks out the names and then suddenly I hear him call out “Melara!” For a moment, I’m a little stunned. I haven’t gotten any letters for months now and I thought I would never get any at all. Another “Melara!” – this time a little sharper than before – shakes me out of the reverie and I walk to the entrance. When Tarkker gives me the envelope, a nasty grin spreads over his face. “Have fun reading it, queeny.” I never really hated anyone before. I think that just changed. For one thing, he's still using that stupid nickname that they gave me aboard the box. Second, the look on his face tells me that he probably opened my letter and read it, now knowing that there's something distinctly unpleasant inside.

 

It seems he’s taking his time with finishing giving out the mail, or at least that’s what it looks like to me. Finally, he’s finished, unfortunately not without giving me another one of those sleazy grins. Apparently I’m not the only one who noticed it because the moment Tarkker is out of the tent, Xan turns to me, saying, “What was that all about? What did he say to you?” I just shrug and finally take a look at the envelope.

 

The handwriting doesn’t ring any bells, so I have a look at the sender’s address. And my heart nearly skips a beat. It’s the address of my family’s summer residence on Borleias, a forest moon near Coruscant. When I went away, we agreed on not sending mail to each other so as not to draw attention to my family, with only real emergencies being the only exception. We would use this address then because no one knows that house belongs to us. Whatever happened, it has to be something terrible.

 

Ignoring everything around me, I open the letter, noticing that my hands are shaking. The paper in my hand feels strange. It’s been years since I last saw and wrote on real paper, not flimsyplast or datapads. Unfolding the sheet of paper, I already feel my throat constricting, and terrible dread settling in my stomach. Finally, I read the text.

 

_Dad died yesterday. Come home Jen. We need you._

 

And that’s it; that's everything. Still, that's all it takes for my world to begin crumbling and falling down around me. The writing before my eyes begins to blur and the sudden need to be out of this stifling tent full of people overwhelms me. Without saying anything, I storm past a bewildered Xanas, with no destination in mind. I just need to get out for a while... anywhere else but here.

 

~*~

 

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here and I don’t care either. My head is empty of any thoughts of the war and I feel a numbness that is almost comforting. Not even the infernal Tatooine heat or the glaring light of the sun bother me now. I don’t feel pain or heat or anything else. Which, to be honest, scares the living daylights out of me. Shouldn’t I be bawling my eyes out or something? Screaming in pain would be appropriate too, right? But for some reason, the only thing I feel is a strange sense of detached numbness.

 

“Jenna?” And that would be Danna Kreth. She's my best friend but right now I just wish she would leave. I don’t want anyone expressing their sympathy to me, not even Danna. At least not right now. “Hey, uh, can I sit down?” I don’t say anything, hoping she’ll take the hint. Of course she doesn’t. “I'll take that as a yes,” she says and sits down beside me.

 

For a while, neither of us says a word and I’m thankful for it. The last thing I want to do now is ‘talk it over’.

 

“Jenna… for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” And that was exactly the wrong thing to say. But I already offended her once by being too closed off... by pushing her away. So I force myself to answer.

 

“You don’t need to be.” I’m not looking at her but at the endless desert and the stunning sight of the day's first sunset in front of me. She takes her time in answering, obviously sensing something in me. It’s something I noticed very soon after meeting her: her ability to just... _know_ certain things without even asking. It can be really scary at times.

 

“You know… you gave Farrayn a real scare back in the tent.” Huh? What’s Xanas got to do with all of this? “Really, I never saw a guy more worried. Okay, maybe apart from Magic when I arbitrarily decided to go with the rescue crew without telling him, back when your box crashed. But Korwin’s a natural worrier. Farrayn isn’t, as far as I know, so something must be up. You want to tell me how bad it really is?” Very clever. Using Xanas as a means to get me to talk. Not that it’ll work or anything but I have to commend her on her strategy.

 

We are silent again. Impressive. I knew that Danna was patient but I never thought she could be this patient when she wasn't in the field. “Come on, Jenna. At least tell me what that 'Jen, we need you.' line was all about. And what you’re going to do about the whole thing. Okay, so maybe she isn't as patient as I thought. Oh well, I guess I owe her at least _some_ kind of answer. Plus, she might leave me alone when she gets what she wants.

 

“They need me for my father's funeral. On Chandrila, when a family member dies, it’s always the oldest daughter that performs the necessary rituals for the _ch’tartha_ of the deceased person to find their peace. I already had to do it for my mother, although we never had a body.” I’m a bit afraid of my own voice, sounding so even and detached. As if I was a narrator of some documentary holo.

 

“I… see. And do you want to do it?” Okay. Time for a crash course in Chandrilan burial traditions for Danna.

 

“It’s not a question of wanting to do it, Danna. I _have_ to. It’s my duty and there’s nothing that could release me from it. If there was, they wouldn’t have contacted me. I need to go. In the next two days, if possible.” And how I wish I wouldn’t have to. My mother’s funeral had been hard on me but then at least I didn’t have to look at her dead body. And my father did all the organization. Now I have to do both: the organization and the ritual.

 

“Jenna… you know that it could be a trap, right?” Of course I do. I've already thought of that. I’m not stupid.

 

“Yes. My family has a certain reputation because of my mother’s service to the OldRepublic and the Alliance but my father managed to make himself invaluable to the Imps by supplying them with certain luxury goods. Anyway, even if it is a trap, I need to go. Either my father really is gone or someone is trying to draw us all back home. Either way, my family needs me.”

 

“But you really shouldn’t go alone.” I jump a little. Does he always have to startle me like that? And what was he doing eavesdropping on us anyway?

 

“That’s none of your business, Private.” And it really isn't. Who does he think he is? And why isn't Danna saying something?

 

“Jenna… he does have a point, you know.” Hey! That’s not what I meant with “Say something, Danna.”!

 

“Of course I do. And it is my business, because it concerns you, Mel.” What the fuck is happening here? Why are they ganging up on me?

 

“Look, Jenna, I would go with you but I can’t leave. Recon is getting a lot of work right now and it doesn't look like the patrol schedule is going to get any lighter. So… we thought… that maybe… Xanas could accompany you.” What the… “ _we_ thought”? Who in all hells is “we”? What right do they have to decide who, if anyone, is accompanying me? This is just too much.

 

Without saying anything, I jump up and start running away blindly, once again seeking my solitude. I need to find someplace quiet, where no one will ask me about the letter, about Chandrila, about my father; where no one will try to force me into taking someone to share my pain with.

 

  
I stagger through the camp, not caring where I’m actually going. Around me, dusk is setting in and like in every desert, it doesn’t take much time to grow completely dark once the last sun is down. In my blind fury, I bump into something solid. On second glance it reveals itself as the backside of the mess tent. Well, it's a good enough for taking a short break. I slowly sink to the sand outside the mess tent, my back resting against the fabric that makes up the back wall, and tune out the rest of camp as wordless sobs begin to shake my body.  


~*~

  
TBC in [Chapter 2](http://gelbes-gilatier.livejournal.com/254229.html).


	2. Chapter 2

** Two **

_I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the trigger. The laser beam hits the sand person. It doesn't stop it though; it's body jerks slightly with the force of the bolt striking it, but it's still charging at me. I pull the trigger again, again shutting my eyes briefly. The sand person jerks again, but continues towards me. Its walking now, slowly, but I just can't stop it. Now it’s right in front of me, pointing its obviously stolen Imperial blaster rifle at me. The mask is impossibly contorting into a terrifying smile, and the sand person pulls the trigger of the rifle. The barrel discharges a bright red bolt, sending it straight at me._

The first thing I notice is the cold. And that someone’s shaking me. Or is it me who’s shaking?

“Mel? Come on, wake up. Tarkker’s going to have a fit if you aren’t in the tent by lights out.” Huh? What the…? I slowly open my eyes. It’s pitch black, but when they have adjusted, I see someone crouching over me… Xanas. Great. I must have fallen asleep in the midst of bawling my eyes out.

“Oh, you’re awake. Thank the Gods. Now come on, we need to get back to the tent.” For some reason, I feel a little out of it. I hear his words and I know that he’s right but I don’t really get the same feeling of urgency that he seems to have. In fact, I could care less about Tarkker going all Sarge on me. Scary, somehow.

“I… don’t care,” I say quietly. The light from the stars lights up his face a little, enough that I can see his brows knitting together in a frown.

“Mel, you really don’t want to give him new fodder for his attacks on you, right?” What if I did? There are worse things than Tarkker’s pathetic attempts at trying to get to me. That frown on Xanas’ face for example. Huh? Since when do I care about Xanas frowning?

“I don’t care about those attacks, either,” I mutter quietly. His hands are resting on my shoulders and he’s absentmindedly caressing my collar bones with his thumps. His green eyes look dark in the shadow of night, almost black, but every so often, a bit of starlight catches them at just the right angle, and they are shining with the same deep green luster of the deep D’arla forests back home.

“But I care about them. Because I care about you. So… do me a favor and come back to the tent with me. I promise no one will bother you. You will get all the sleep you need.” No, I won’t. But that’s not your fault. It's not your fault that I've been having nightmares ever since our box went down.

I look into his eyes again. There's no pleading in them, just quiet patience, waiting for me to succumb. In that moment, I so desperately wish that I could forget where we are, throw myself into his arms, and cry like the lost child that I feel like. But I can’t. So I do the thing nearest thing to it; I acquiesce. “Fine. But if he yells, let him yell. Don’t say anything. He’ll quiet down eventually.” For a moment, relief shines through in his eyes, then he silently stands up and lends me a hand to help me up. We walk back to the tent in silence, but surprisingly it’s not an uncomfortable silence.

Shortly before we reach the tent, he stops again, making me stop with him. “Mel…I know you probably don't want to hear this right now and you're probably going to freak out but... my offer to accompany you still stands. Even if you won’t take me with you… at least promise me that you'll talk to someone about this when you’re ready. Don’t retreat into your shell again. It doesn’t… suit you.” Whoa. Did I imagine that or was he really sounding like an awkward teenager on his first date when he said that last sentence? I mean, I've had a sneaking suspicion that he has a little crush on me for a while already but he never really acted like it before. I guess it’s best to just ignore that. Spares all of us a lot of potential embarrassment.

“Yeah, sure. Just give me some time to think about it.” He doesn't say anything else; only nods and starts to walk towards the tent again. I follow him.

~*~

The next morning… doesn’t start any better. “Rise and shine, 1st platoon!”

Almost relieved, I follow Tarkker’s order and get up, eager to leave my cot. Tonight was one of the better ones because I didn’t even fall asleep. Which meant no nightmares. But it also meant restlessly tossing and turning, listening to the snores and deep sleep breathing of the others and hoping the night would be over soon.

But the morning isn't any better. Even before I can gather my sparse toiletry to head for my usual morning routine, Tarkker calls me to him. When I arrive, he doesn’t even wait for me to salute and report but barks out his order at once, “Captain Borlin wants to see you at 0700. Hurry up, lazy ass.” Before I can answer with a “Yes sir!” he’s already gone to harass a few other of the platoon members. Stupid asshole.

I take a short look at my wrist chrono. I have exactly 28 minutes to get showered, dressed, and be standing in front of the Captain. Well, that means either no breakfast or even less time for cleaning up. Great.

In the end I decide to skip the slop in the mess tent and take the short amount of extra time to shower off a few days worth of sweat and grime. For breakfast, I grab a couple of ration bars from my pack. I finish the last one right in front of Borlin’s tent as I'm about to walk in. After swallowing the last bite and making sure I look 'Tatooine' presentable, I take a deep breath and then enter the tent.

Sitting behind a makeshift desk in the front area is Borlin's new aide, a rather youthful Devaronian male with Corporal's stripes on his jumpsuit. He shows his impressive teeth in a smile and says, “And you are…”

“Private Jenna Melara, reporting as ordered. Sir,” I add as an afterthought. Calling a fellow enlisted man “Sir” is still beyond my understanding but it wouldn’t get me anywhere questioning that habit right now.

“Ah, I see. You can go through.” He jerks his head in the direction of the second flap. Taking another deep breath, I enter the lion’s den.

Borlin immediately looks up and I stand at attention and report. He just nods and orders me to stand at ease. Then he leans back in his chair and says, “I don’t like to beat around the bush, so I'll get straight to the point. Your platoon needs a new leader. We won’t be getting any new officers for quite some time, as Alliance High Command seems to think they're needed elsewhere, so someone up the chain of command decided we were going to send one of our enlisted men to OCS. They've decided to send you. Congratulations.” A smirk crosses his face and the sarcastic manner in which he congratulated me makes me think that this is probably not the most fortuitous thing that's happened to me in the Army. Frankly, I'm not inclined to disagree.

He raises his eyebrows. Oh, of course, it’s expected of me to say something. “I… thank you, sir. But… permission to speak freely?”

He shrugs, then says, “I’m always interested in what my soldiers have to say.” The hell you are, you arrogant bastard.

“Sir… why me? Corporal Tarkker is already leading the platoon in Sergeant Dankin's absence and Sergeant Dankin will be returning sometime in the next few weeks.”

Borlin raises his eyebrows again and this time it almost looks like approval. “Quite frankly, I have no idea who would want to make you an officer. I would imagine that it probably has something to do with your last name and honoring your mother's memory as a great Naval officer and all that shit.”

I know that infantry officers don’t really appreciate fleet officers but he could at least fake a little respect, couldn’t he? “Anyway, Tarkker’s an incompetent asshole and Dankin might not return to your platoon. Plus I don’t want any trouble with High Command. So you've got two weeks of leave and then you ship out for whatever kind of officer's training they give you nowadays. The contact info is on the disk before you; just make sure you don’t lose it when you’re doing whatever people like you do on leave.”

I know that this means I’m dismissed but some little demon must be riding me today. Or maybe it’s just lack of sleep. “Sir… I want to make a proposition.” He looks up again. Oookay. He's positively pissed that the incompetent Private who's been promoted straight to Lieutenant is still bothering him. That doesn't surprise me at all. What does surprise me is him saying, “Shoot.”

“Yesterday… I got a message from home, saying that my father died and that I need to go home to perform his funeral rites. However, considering my family name, I fear that it might be a trap because Chandrila is occupied by Imperial forces. So… I want to take someone with me as backup.” A lazy hand gesture tells me to go on. “I… want Private Farrayn to come with me.”

He leans back again, looking at me as if his eyes could shoot blaster bolts. “First of all, why go back to Chandrila at all? You are a soldier of the Alliance and your duty is first and foremost to us. If there’s any danger of compromising any information about the unit, I am well within my rights to forbid you from going there at all.” Great; just what I need. Having to explain to Captain 'I don’t care about whether you have families out there or not, because this is your family now' Borlin why it’s essential for me to return to my home planet.

“With all due respect, sir… I am the eldest child in my family and as such it’s my duty to perform certain rituals at a family funeral. It's Chandrilan tradition. It’s crucial that I be there. Besides, my father took enough care to ensure a safe journey to Chandrila in case of an event like this. Nothing will be compromised. I just want to be on the safe side.” Dismay is crossing his face again. But it seems that he’s already leaning towards authorizing the trip.

“I can’t spare any extra soldiers and you know that. Or you _should_ know that. The only reason you're getting leave is because Tatooine High Command thinks you deserve a vacation before becoming responsible for the lives of almost fifty other soldiers. Besides, Farrayn lost all leave privileges in that stupid bar fight two weeks ago. There's only two ways for him to get off this rock; with the rest of us, when we finally kick the Imps off or in a body bag.” He's looking almost smug now, the rotten bastard.

“I know that, sir. But… his conduct has been faultless since then. And he is showing real signs of regret.” Lying through your teeth now, are you? My, my, what has gotten into you, Melara? “Besides, he's only a Private and he hates Tarkker like Magic hates Dankin. Sending him with me would mean at least two weeks of peace in the platoon. Sir.” He looks me straight in the eye and I manage not to flinch. Wow. Major once in a lifetime moment here.

After what seems like an eternity, he says, “Fine. Take him wherever you like. Just don’t let it show in your performance when you get back.” Thank you so very much for the implying that I'm a slut, sir. And here I thought you were a stiff old coot with a stick up your backside. “Your flight is scheduled for tomorrow at 0700. Civilian clothes only. Nothing military issue, you understand? You may take your personal sidearm with you, however. Now, unless you have any more shitbombs to drop on my head, you're dismissed.”

“Yessir.”

He just nods, then says, “Maybe there’s something of your mother in you, after all.” I snap to attention, toss him a crisp salute and turn on my heel to head out of the tent. Just what was that last remark about my mother supposed to mean, huh?


	3. Chapter 3

** Three **

It’s been five hours since I left Borlin’s tent and once again I’m wishing that Tarkker would just drop dead. Someone got on his bad side and now he’s marching us through dunes and sand holes. In full battle rattle. Whoever had the brilliant idea to give command of the Platoon to that guy, huh?

Behind me, one of the guys who’s even newer than me is panting heavily and struggling in the deep sand. Tarkker’s busy driving some people up front crazy, so I risk falling back to help the guy. But when I take a look at his face I immediately holler in the general direction of the people who were before me, “Stop! We got dehydration and sunstroke here.” The boy falls face first into the sand. Great.

The first to hear me and come back to me is Xanas, who's not looking much better himself. But I know him; he always looks worse than he feels and for someone with his supposedly soft upbringing he’s got an impressive amount of stamina. Without saying anything, he helps me bring the boy that collapsed into a recovery position. While I try to wake the boy up, the others come back. Just when it seems as if the boy’s indeed waking up, Tarkker reaches us. He starts his usual routine at once.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing there, Melara?” Oh, aren’t we a clever one? Identifying the culprit at once, that’s what you’re good at, huh?

I stand up and stare him directly in the eyes. “Helping a fellow soldier. What does it look like to you?” And yes, leaving out the sir was deliberate. I’ve had it with that asshole. Besides, if everything goes according to plan, I’ll be gone by tomorrow and I’ll return as his superior.

“It looks like you're deliberately disobeying a direct order. I told you not to help the replacements. You violated that order.” In his eyes there’s a strange gleam. Up to now he’s been deadly calm but I know him. It can change any moment.

“We don’t leave a man behind. It’s a fundamental principle of Alliance military tradition. How about violating that?” To my right, Xanas moves as if to do something but I manage to stop him with a short side glance.

Meanwhile, Tarkker's cronies have gathered behind him. Great. “The replacements need to learn that in harsh environments such as the deep desert, everyone is on his own. You got right to question my training methods, Private.”

Someone is moaning. It’s the boy who collapsed. This is just frigging great. There’s someone obviously needing medical assistance and I need to fight with a petty, spiteful Corporal. “I have every right to question your stupid and inhumane training methods, _Corporal_. Now stop arguing with me. This guy needs medical assistance. Right _now_.”

“What our duty is, Private, is still my decision. We continue.” Okay, that’s enough. We’re the good guys. We don’t leave a man behind. And we sure as hell don’t let someone fry in the sun because of some frigging “I’m your drill instructor, call me God!” complex our obviously incompetent leader has.

“You can go on if you want to but _I_ will bring that soldier back to camp. Anyone else volunteering to help?” I take a look around. Every face is closed off. Either they are staring at me in open disdain or trying to avert their eyes out of fear and shame. “No one? Well, well... I never thought Alliance Infantrymen were such a horde of spineless worms. Come on people, I’m offering you a legitimate chance to get out of this stupid waste of a time.” Whoa. And I never knew I could be such a manipulative bitch.

“I’ll go with you.” Xanas. I should be annoyed but all I feel is relief. With a start I realize that I’d been afraid he’d desert me as well. It takes all of my willpower not to show my gratefulness too openly. We’ll have plenty of time to talk from tomorrow on.

“See, that man’s actually got brains _and_ balls.” Did I just see him blush under his tan? Nah, must have been imagining it. “So, anyone else? No? Okay.” Tarkker’s glaring at me maliciously. See if I care, laser-brain.

I motion for Xanas to move over and we both take one of the replacement’s arms and hoist him up on our shoulders to drag him back to the camp. Without a word or a look back, we start walking. Only when the whole group has vanished behind a dune, I hear Xanas say, “You know you just got yourself in a real big mess, right?”

I smirk. “Maybe. But Tarkker doesn’t know that the mess he got himself into is even bigger.” He throws me a quizzical glance but I only give him a cryptic smile. Let’s see if he can do the math himself.

~*~

One hour later we're sitting in front of the mess tent, chewing on ration bars and taking a swig out of our canteens every now and then. It took us half an hour to drag Private Buff – he told us his name when he was lucid for a short time – back to the camp and another thirty minutes to get out of the hospital tent and into the Company CP to report to Borlin and tell him of the incident. I swear, I've never before heard a man swear so fluently, in so many languages, so fast. It was a truly awe-inspiring tirade.

Now everything has quieted down a little and we’re waiting for the rest of the platoon to come back. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell Xanas of his good fortune.

“Xan?”

“Mh?” He turns to me, the muscles of his bare torso and arms very visible, since he pulled down the upper half of his jumpsuit. Glistening rivulets of sweat drip slowly and enticingly down his perfectly-sculpted torso.

Wait. What the _hell_ am I thinking? Should probably cut down on the romance holo novels.

Anyway… don’t get distracted, Melara. It’s not as if you haven’t seen a man half-naked before.

“You still want to go to Chandrila with me?” His head turns around and a lazy grin is appearing on his face. Just like he already knew I wouldn’t go without him. Bastard.

“Yeah, why are you asking?” As if you don’t know already.

“Because I got us both a ticket out of here. Tomorrow morning we’ll be leaving in a shuttle for Chandrila.” Now the grin is fully reaching his eyes, making his face glow. Gods, why does he have to look so adorable, like a kid who just got full access to a free candy shop?

“How’d you do that?” Oh, ha, you didn’t really believe I’d get the permission to take you with me, huh?

“Oh well, I just used my female viles on the Captain…”

His face turns into  a mask of disgust. “You didn’t… did you?” Grrr.

“You know… just for actually believing that, even for a second, I should let you roast here in the sun.” He actually looks hurt now. Well, suits him right for thinking I’d really do any of those things people like Tarkker are spreading rumors about.

“I didn’t. Honestly Mel, I didn’t! It’s just… well… you know.” No, I _don_ … oh. Wait. Is that jealousy talking? I’m speechless, looking away from him, and I'm suddenly showing an unusual interest in the tips of my boots. He gets the hint. “Oh… oh, no, that came out wrong. I really didn’t mean… I didn’t want to say…” Actually, it does hurt a little, seeing as he’s jumping to deny everything so fast.

“You better not have. Because if everything goes according to plans, you’ll be calling me “ma’am” in six weeks.” Now it’s his turn to be speechless. His jaw even drops, as well as his half-eaten ration bar. Not a pity, if you ask me. They taste like sand anyway. “Don’t look at me like that. Captain told me yesterday that I've got two weeks of leave, then I'm to report to a crash course for officers. If I make it through that, I’ll be a Second Lieutenant by the time I join you again. I’ll be Dernel’s replacement.” Gods, I just hope this sounded as business-like to him as it sounded to me.

For a while, neither of us says anything, then Xanas snorts and says with a grin on his face, “Big mess for Tarkker, indeed.” And for the first time after the message of my father’s death, I feel a real smile creeping over my face. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it through it all, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

** Four **

“You will _what_?” Interesting. Tarkker can turn even redder than he did yesterday, when he was trying to make Xanas and me regret our decision to bring Buff back to camp, once he and the rest of the platoon had returned.

“Private Farrayn and I will be leaving in thirty on a supply shuttle for a two week furlough. It’s all signed off and approved by the Captain. You want to see the papers again?” It almost looks like he’s going to explode. Time to look around for shelter. Having Tarkker all over my nearly spotless civilian clothes? Not desirable.

“I don’t want to see the damn papers! I want to know what this is all about. And what’s that transfer to 'Officers Candidate School' I saw in there?” He shoves my leave papers under my nose. Ever so slowly I'm beginning to lose my temper.

“Just what it says... or do you need me to read it back to you? Being able to read is an asset, you know. The Alliance likes their officers to be literate.” Yep, definitely going to be all over the tent in a sec. In pieces.

“You are in shit so deep you don’t even know how far above your head it ends. When Dankin’s back…” Oh, come _on_.

“Dankin is most likely never coming back. Cap's words, not mine.” Xanas chimes in, obviously sensing my fading patience. By now I feel like I'm radiating off enough heat to power up a starship.

Tarkker is speechless for a moment, and I use it to snatch the end of Xan’s sleeve and draw him with me to the entrance of the tent. Tarkker's cronies, however, have different ideas for us. They’re blocking the entrance, standing there side by side with their arms crossed in front of their chests. It's all so cliché` that it makes me want to gag.

“Come on guys, you saw the papers and the signature and everything… and you know, in a few weeks, you’ll all be calling me 'ma’am'. If I were you, I’d step aside right now.” Another holodrama cliché. Well, apart from starting a brawl in righteous anger, I mean. And somebody already tried that, didn’t they Xan?

“I’ll be calling you nothing but 'whore'.”

Xanas explodes. And I’m surprised that I’m fast enough to step in front of him and stop him from doing anything stupid. I guess we really have to talk about this whole 'defending my honor' thing.

“What’s the fuck's going on in here? Is there a problem?” Thank the Gods. It’s Korwin. Sometimes I wonder if the guy's got a sixth sense for trouble or something. Two of the guys turn around, revealing a frowning Korwin and Danna standing just behind Tarkker's goons. Suddenly, they don't look so tough. I smile internally as they cringe away from him. They must be recalling the beating they took at the hands of the recon troops in that bar in Mos Espa.

“We… uh…”

“None of your business, _Magic_.” Tarkker comes up from behind me, and his cronies move aside now. And there’s the exit, the gates of heaven… okay, I’ll quit the creative writing student routine already.

“Looks to me like a couple of your boys were trying to prevent my good friends here from leaving.” He stresses the word boys, placing special emphasis on it. Korwin cocks his head to the side, staring hard at Tarkker. “Looks to me like you folks were trying to start some shit. That _makes_ it my business.” Xan is positively glowing at being called Korwin's 'good friend'. Korwin, for his part, is standing with his hands curled into loose fists at his side, his coal-dark eyes unblinking as he keeps his gaze locked on Tarkker's.

“They were just helping me clear up some very confusing orders from Captain Borlin. Now leave us alone.” Wow... Tarkker’s really high on making mistakes these days, huh? If he wasn’t such a disgusting little schutta, I’d even feel compassion for him.

“Banthashit. Captain Borlin’s orders are never confusing. And if he gave them leave papers, then they're damn well going to make their fuckin' ship. Now let em' pass.” Dear Gods, they are already sizing each other up. Not good for Tarkker. If I don’t do anything to stop this, this will end like that thing in the cantina, and then I’ll not get any leave for the next hundred years. And well, the promotion will definitely not be mine, either.

“You know Tarkker, that was a generous offer. Seeing as he how almost smashed your nose flat the last time you two met and everything. And just think of the possibilities… the two banes of your existence gone for at least two weeks…” Ah, sometimes you just have to hit the right chord to get what you want. For at least half a minute, everything is silent. But I can see it already working in his head. He's looking for a way to escape from his now apparently hopeless situation without losing face in front of his friends. Well, he won’t. He's been called on by Korwin, and he knows that he's as good as beaten. After another moment, there’s his answer.

“Fine. But you won’t be coming back for quite a while, and your little friend here,” he gestures towards Xanas, “won’t have you to watch his back when he’s back. Two weeks, and his ass is mine.” I swear, if I wasn’t secretively squeezing his hand as hard as I could, Xan would have jumped at Tarkker’s throat the moment he was done with his little speech. He's been increasingly short-tempered since his brawl in the bar. And bolder too.

“Just don’t forget you’re not the only one here who isn't afraid to fight.” is all I say and then take my bag and walk out of the tent, past the “guards” Tarkker posted there. I hold my head up high, and even manage to completely ignore the “whore” comment one of them hisses at me as I pass. And for once Xan ignores it as well. I guess I’ll also have to thank him for that.

When we are a considerable distance away from the platoon tent, we are all letting out a collective sigh of relief. Except for Korwin. He still looks like he's spoiling for a fight. Danna’s the first to say something. “Holy shit, what did you get yourself into, Jen?”

I shrug, trying to sound casual, “Nothing more than anyone would expect from a Melara.”

She quirks an eyebrow, and Korwin asks, “Expect from a Melara? What's that mean?”

I run a hand through my hair. I don't want to go into details, because somehow everything is reminding me of my father and memories are threatening to spill over. “Ask Captain Borlin. If he’s in a good mood, maybe he'll tell you. Or just be patient and wait six weeks and then ask me again.” Gods, I just hope my grin can plaster up the cracks that are about to appear in my facade.   
  
Korwin shoots Xanas a glance, but he’s just shrugging and rolling his eyes as if to say, “Women. What do you expect?” I saw that guys.

We arrive at the shuttle landing zone just as it’s about to touch down. The hatch is opening, and someone appears in the entryway, waving and calling for us to board as soon as the quartermaster’s crew appears to unload the shuttle. And here I thought they’d take their time with everything.

I turn to Danna, all of a sudden feeling reluctant to leave. She grins, obviously feeling the same, because the grin isn't quite reaching her eyes. “May the Force be with you. And don’t do anything foolish.” With that she smirks and shortly jerks her head in Xanas’ direction. As if he and I ever would do anything like that.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. And you keep your boys out of trouble. The Gods know they can't do it themselves,” I tell her as we embrace. I hope she didn’t hear the hitch in my voice at the end.

She grins again. “Sure.” I’m almost sure I heard the same slightly choked hitch in her own voice.

Behind me, I hear Xanas huff, and he turns to Korwin, saying, “Women. You’d think she'd be just dying of happiness to get away from this hell hole, but suddenly she’s getting all teary about leaving it.” Isn't he cute when he tries to impress other guys?

“If it’s any consolation Melara, you’ll be back in six weeks. And we might even still be here,” Korwin says and smirks. Then he smiles, and says, “Enjoy your time away from the war. Even if it isn't a happy occasion you’re leaving it for.” He kicks at the sand and looks down at his feet. Glancing back up at me, I see that all trace of humor has completely left his face. “Sorry about your pops and all. You take care, you hear me?”

The guy from the shuttle calls again. “Come on, let's get moving!” Xanas nudges me, and I sling my bag over shoulder and run toward the shuttle behind me. Before I enter, I take a short look back and wave again to Danna and Korwin.


End file.
